The Night-Cellar XVIII. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked. "Where?" she cried. “I was frightened then,” she declared.
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